Personal Essay — The Lighthouse
The Lighthouse directed by Robert Eggers. Where to start with this film? It’s New England in the 1890’s, a timberman named Ephraim Winslow (Robert Pattinson) arrives at an isolated lighthouse to work under Thomas Wake (Willem Dafoe). They subsequently go mad. That’s essentially the entire plot of the movie, which doesn’t seem very substantial, but the way each element of the film is crafted together is what makes this work.
First, let’s talk about the cinematography. Wow. For how grimy, dingy, dirty this movie is — it is beautiful. It’s one of the most uniquely beautiful movies I’ve ever seen. It feels almost animated at times, due to how carefully stylized and composed each frame is. The Lighthouse, with cinematographer Jarin Blaschke, was shot on film with an antique lens from the 1930s, which gave them the specific black and white texture Eggers was looking for. The other most notable aspect of the cinematography is well, the aspect ratio. The screen is 1.19:1, where most films are shot between 1.85:1 and 2.39:1, giving The Lighthouse an almost square frame. This creates an incredibly claustrophobic and closed off feeling, adding to the tight quarters and isolation of the characters from the rest of the world. The set was built specifically — from the size of the rooms to the height of the lighthouse — to fit within this aspect ratio.
On to the acting. Both of these men are incredible, giving some of, if not the, best performances of their careers. Pattinson plays a young, brooding man, who keeps secrets of his past as he tries to assert himself on the island. Dafoe plays a seasoned lighthouse keeper, who seems to be mildly insane, however always manages to stay on top, treating Winslow like a dog. Both actors give incredible physical performances as they fall deeper and deeper into madness, using their bodies and faces to give power to their words. And boy oh boy, the words. Dafoe’s character will break out into these insane lyrical monologues, usually being a seaman’s curse on Winslow. The men share great back-and-forths, all while maintaining this crazy, gruffled 19th century sailor-speak. While the production of the film is incredibly strong, these performances keep it afloat.
These next two elements of the movie go hand in hand: imagery and insanity. From the moment Winslow steps foot on the island, both men start on a collision course. Wake treats Winslow like trash, constantly making him do menial, dirty labor, while he himself cares for the light at the top of the lighthouse. As the stress of isolation gets to them, they get more and more drunk, irrational, and violent. And as Winslow continues to try to stake a claim to the power on the island, tensions escalate. We begin to be unsure of the passage of time and what’s reality, as Winslow finds a mermaid and a dead body, and sees strange visions. Every scene of this movie is chock-full with imagery, one large example being the light in the lighthouse being like a siren’s call, both men being attracted to it and it’s mysterious power, only to bring them misery. There are essays and essays about every hidden meaning in The Lighthouse, but I think part of the greatness of it is that not everything needs to make sense or add up, contributing to the rabbit hole insanity our characters find themselves in. Everything having a deeper meaning, and at the same time nothing meaning anything at all, creates this perfectly mysterious film.
The Lighthouse is pure theatrical cinema. Everything, from the production, to the performances, to the plot, is dialed up to an eleven. As each scene leads into the next, the film creates this insane, dirty, and beautiful crescendo, like I’ve never seen.
(here’s a scene from the movie that showcases some of the best elements)
